


We Will Simply Run Away

by Glitter_Lisp



Series: Not Me, Not I [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Age Changes, At Least Physically Because They Are In Fact Both Very Old, But Again: Only Fake Age Changes, But Only Fake Age Difference, But Only Fake Underage, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, M/M, Now THAT One Is Real, Older Man/Younger Man, Pre-Canon, Size Difference, Teenage Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Underage Sex, Virgin Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26471380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glitter_Lisp/pseuds/Glitter_Lisp
Summary: Nicolo was sixteen when they met. He can't seem to get it through Yusuf's head that he's not sixteen anymore.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Not Me, Not I [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955596
Comments: 24
Kudos: 328





	We Will Simply Run Away

**Author's Note:**

> For [ this fill at the old guard kink meme](https://theoldguardkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/694.html?thread=906678#cmt906678)
> 
> I put up an underage tag but not a warning because neither of them is actually underage; Nicolo is physically sixteen, but he's very much an adult in there.

"Yusuf,” Nicolo says. Yusuf hums but doesn't glance up from his drawing, and Nicolo lets out a loud, exasperated sigh. _“Yusuf.”_

Yusuf does look up then, lips quirked up in a half-smile. _“Nicolo,”_ he mimics in the same tone. 

“It's been a few years,” Nicolo says, ignoring his teasing. “Twelve, actually, so I thought I'd bring this up again, see if you’ve come to your senses.”

Yusuf’s stomach sinks, because it's been so long that he had half-hoped Nicolo had given up on this. He should have known better; his companion is a tenacious little devil, and he's unstoppable when he wants something. Except for this one thing, Yusuf has always, inevitably caved in to him. 

He looks back down at the sketchbook on his desk. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he says. 

“Let me remind you, then.” Nicolo stands from where he's been lounging on the bed— _Yusuf's_ bed, because he had waltzed in an hour ago and thrown himself down on the pillows like he owned them—and stalks towards Yusuf, easy grace at odds with his awkward, coltish limbs. He told Yusuf once, rueful, that he had only just hit his growth spurt when he died the first time. Yusuf doesn't think Nicolo has quite forgiven him for killing him before he could grow a proper beard.

Nicolo stops beside his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “Yusuf, how old am I?”

“Sixteen,” Yusuf says automatically. Nicolo raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, and Yusuf does some quick math in his head. “Seventy-six,” he amends. 

“I seem to remember being told that we could revisit a certain conversation when I was grown,” Nicolo says. “By any reasonable metric, I certainly am now.”

“By your logic, you're almost _too_ old to be having sex,” Yusuf says, and immediately realizes by the glint in Nicolo’s eyes that he's made a mistake. 

“Oh, so you do know what I'm talking about,” he says. 

“No, I don't,” Yusuf says automatically, and Nicolo lets out an explosive sigh and throws his hands up in frustration. 

“It's like talking to a stone,” he grouses. “Fine then. I'm in love with you, you're in love with me, and I think it's time we did something about it.”

“I'm not!” Yusuf protests. Nicky scowls, and Yusuf sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, I love you,” he says tiredly. “You're more important to me than anyone in the world. But my feelings toward you are platonic. Familial, even. You're like a little brother to me.”

“I'm a little concerned about how often I catch you staring at my ass, then, if I'm your little brother,” Nicolo says frankly. Yusuf gasps, unexpectedly scandalized. 

“Nicolo!”

“Am I wrong?” Nicolo challenges. “Are you really going to pretend that you _don't?”_ Yusuf hesitates, and Nicolo groans and reaches for the drawings Yusuf has been working on. Yusuf tries to cover them, but he's too slow and Nicolo snatches up the sketchbook. 

“What were you drawing here, let's see,” he says, flipping through them while Yusuf hopes the ground will open up and swallow him whole. “Me asleep. Me eating. My hands, my mouth…” He looks up for a moment, offering Yusuf a quick smile. “These really are lovely. You're incredible.”

Yusuf feels his cheeks warm at the praise, then burn when when Nicolo turns another page and laughs out loud. 

“Oh, look at this!” he crows, grinning triumphantly. “Unless I'm mistaken, this appears to be a drawing of me bathing in the river.”

“It was practice,” Yusuf protests weakly. “Just a sketch.”

“Lots of very careful detail, for being just a sketch,” Nicolo says, peering at it more closely. “Oh, that's rather flattering, actually.” He admires the page for a moment more before closing the book and setting it carefully back on the table. “So many drawings of me. How interesting.”

“What, I can't have a muse?” Yusuf says, defensive and a little more snappish than he means to be. “I spend more time with you than anyone else; of course I draw you more.”

“Is that really while you have an entire sketchbook full of me?” Nicolo asks. “Simply because you see me more? You… I can't be imagining this, can I? Don't you want me?”

There's a hint of uncertainty in his voice now, hesitance, and Yusuf can't bear to let him think he's unloved. Just like always, he caves. 

“Yes,” he admits softly. “I do.”

“Then what's _stopping_ you?” Nicolo cries. “We've been doing this for years, for decades. _Decades,_ Yusuf! How long are you going to keep me waiting?”

Yusuf looks away. “You– I can't help it. You have to understand, Nicolo, whatever my feelings for you, whatever I might want, it doesn't matter when you're so–”

“If you tell me I'm too young, I will kill you,” Nicolo says flatly. “I will knock you off that chair and beat you to death with it.” He reaches out then, resting soft, thin fingers against Yusuf’s cheek and turning his head back to look at him. “I only look young,” he says, gentle. “I'm a grown man, Yusuf, and I know what I want.”

“You don't look it, though,” Yusuf says plaintively. “It's– you just _look_ so young.”

“Yes, but you like it.” Yusuf’s jaw drops, and a wicked grin spreads across Nicolo’s face. “I told you. I've seen you looking.”

“I'm not– I don't want– it's not like I–”

“Relax, I know you're not some dirty old man,” Nicolo says dismissively. “You're not interested in boys. You're interested in _me.”_

It's true in a way that aches. It's Nicolo's quick mind, it's his humor, it's his unabashed, relentless pursuit of the things he wants. It's the strange, fascinating juxtaposition of his adolescent body and the adult confidence with which he carries it. It's the endless list of things about him that Yusuf has always wished he didn't find so charming. 

Nicolo's hand is still on Yusuf's cheek. Yusuf turns his head and kisses his palm. 

Nicolo lets out a laugh of pure delight and reaches out with his other hand to cup Yusuf's face between his palms. “Can I kiss you?” he asks breathlessly. _“Please?”_

Considering Nicolo's off-and-on but persistent attempts at seduction over the last sixty years, Yusuf is surprised by how gentle the kiss is when he nods, just a sweet, chaste press of Nicolo's lips to his. 

“I love you,” Nicolo murmurs. “I've wanted to do that since the day I met you.”

“It actually would have been pretty bad if we had done this then,” Yusuf says dazedly, hands moving of their own accord to rest on Nicolo's hips. 

Nicolo huffs out a laugh that Yusuf can feel on his lips before he goes in for another kiss, longer but no less soft. 

“You know what else I've been wanting to do?” he asks, pulling back so Yusuf can see his round, flushed face, and Yusuf makes a quiet, inquiring noise. 

Nicolo grins, then lets go of Yusuf's face so he can drop himself into his lap, his long legs straddling Yusuf's thighs. “I've been wanting to ride you like a pony,” he says honestly, and Yusuf groans. Nicolo grins and grinds his ass against Yusuf's lap, planting his hands on Yusuf's shoulders for balance. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

Yusuf grips Nicolo's hips partly to make him sit still and partly because he's worried that he himself is going to topple out of the chair. 

“That's a little fast, isn't it?” he croaks. 

“Again, you've kept me waiting for sixty years,” Nicolo says. “This is _incredibly_ slow.”

Yusuf laughs despite himself. “All right, you have a point,” he concedes. “But are you sure? You're–”

“God in heaven, Yusuf, if you say ‘young’ then I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”

 _“Small,”_ Yusuf says, stroking his hands up and down Nicolo's sides. “I feel like I might break you.”

Nicolo actually shivers, grip tightening on Yusuf's shoulders. “I wouldn't necessarily mind that.”

Yusuf laughs again, tilting his head up to press a line of kisses along Nicolo's jaw. “Someone's eager.”

Nicolo lets out a frustrated groan as he tilts his head to allow Yusuf better access. “You have _no_ idea. I'm stuck at sixteen! Do you remember being this age?”

Yusuf can't stop grinning. “I remember getting… _excited_ rather easily.”

“Any other human on earth gets to, _oh,_ g-grow out of it,” Nicolo says, panting and scrabbling helplessly at Yusuf's shoulders when Yusuf sucks a mark onto the skin just below his jaw. “Like I said, though, I'm– sweet _glory,_ do that again.”

“What, this?” Yusuf sets his teeth lightly to Nicolo's skin on the other side, then bites a little harder when he pulls back to admire his handiwork only to see the redness fade before his eyes. 

Nicolo whines and squirms in his lap. “Up,” he gasps. “Up, get up, get on the bed.”

“Pretty happy where I am, actually,” Yusuf mumbles against Nicolo's skin. 

Nicolo groans and wrenches himself away from Yusuf's mouth. “You'll be happier with your cock in my ass,” he points out, and Yusuf groans and drops his forehead against Nicolo's chest, fingers tightening on his hips. 

“Dear _god,”_ he says. “Where in the hell did you learn to talk like this?”

“From men less principled than you,” Nicolo says, letting go of Yusuf's shoulders so he can pull Yusuf's hands away from his hips and climb off his lap. Yusuf stands after him, mesmerized, and feels unexpectedly disconcerted when he has to look down to meet Nicolo's eyes. He nearly forgot, looking up from his chair, that he’s a full head taller than Nicolo. 

“Come on,” Nicolo says, taking Yusuf's hand and tugging him towards the bed. “I'm tired of waiting.”

“Wait,” Yusuf says, stumbling after him, “you've already– who–”

“I’m eighty years old,” Nicolo says, throwing an amused look over his shoulder. “Of course I've done this before. Sit down.”

Joe does, dropping heavily down onto the bed and spreading his legs automatically when Nicolo pushes forward to stand between them. He smiles down at Yusuf, resting his forearms on Yusuf's shoulders and running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Goosebumps break out across Yusuf's skin. 

“Come now,” Nicolo says. “I'm no blushing virgin. How do you want me, my love?”

“What do you mean?” Yusuf asks, resting his hands on Nicolo's hips once more. 

“On my back?” Nicolo asks. “Hands and knees? Your lap? Or I could give, if you would rather take. I won't lie, I do have a preference, but I'm more than happy to take turns if you want.”

“I don't know,” Yusuf breathes, gaze caught on Nicolo's smile and dark eyes. “I don't know what I want.”

Nicolo grins and says, “Oh, I know, so many choices. Well, it does seem we have an eternity to try them all. But let's start with the basics, shall we?”

He leans in for another kiss, but Yusuf tilts his head away and locks his hands on his hips to keep him in place. Nicolo pulls back, frowning, and Yusuf clears his throat and shrugs awkwardly. 

“No, really, I mean I don't know,” he says. “You said you've– that you're, um, experienced, but I…”

Nicolo's eyes are growing steadily wider, and his mouth falls open. “Wait, you've–”

“I've been _busy,”_ Yusuf says. 

“So have I, and I still managed to make time.” Nicolo bites his lip and leans back, kept in place by Yusuf's hands but making no attempt to move forward. “Do you not want to?”

“I want to,” Yusuf assures him. “I just, ah… I'm not really sure that– and with a man, especially…”

Nicolo's lips twitch in amusement. “Thank you for not saying ‘boy,’” he says dryly. “Would you like to stop for now, at least? Slow down? We can take a break.”

“I'd appreciate it,” Yusuf says weakly. “Just for a minute, at least. I love you, I do, and I do want to, you know.”

Nicolo grins and glances pointedly down at Yusuf's lap, then looks up and waggles his eyebrows. “I know.”

Yusuf laughs despite himself. “I'm not entirely inexperienced,” he says. “I've done– well. Some.”

Nicolo sighs, and one of his hands returns to Yusuf's hair to card slowly through his curls. “Why don't you tell me what this ‘some’ entails,” he says gently. “I don't want to overwhelm you.”

“Everything you do overwhelms me,” Yusuf says honestly, and Nicolo's cheeks go pink. 

“Well, I'd hate to make the problem worse,” he says after a moment. “Kissing? Please say these weren't your first, because frankly I'm just going to be offended if you're that good with your mouth already.”

Yusuf snorts out a laugh, amused and more than a little flattered. “Not my first, no,” he says. “I've kissed people before. And, uh, some touching. Used my mouth on a woman, once.”

“Ohh,” Nicolo breathes, eyes going dark. “Now _there's_ a thought. Did she return the favor?”

“She didn't offer,” Yusuf says with a shrug. “And I didn't ask.”

Nicolo's hand spasms on the back of Yusuf's head, accidentally pulling a few strands tight. He murmurs an apology and smooths his hand over them soothingly when Yusuf winces, and it's sincere but clearly distracted. 

“Why not?” he asks tremulously. “Were you– did you–”

“Nicolo?” Yusuf asks, concerned, brushing his hands up and down Nicolo's sides like he might to soothe his horse. “Are you all right?”

“I'm sorry,” Nicolo says. “I just– why not ask? It's only fair, isn't it?”

Yusuf blushes and looks away. “I, ah. I enjoyed it enough that there wasn't much for her to do afterwards except offer me a towel.”

Nicolo groans out loud and yanks Yusuf into a messy kiss. “God have mercy,” he says when he pulls away, voice cracking. “You're going to kill me again.”

“I hope it's a better death this time,” Yusuf says, dazed. 

“You just wanted to make her feel good?” Nicolo asks. He sounds wrecked, and Yusuf can't help a full-body shiver at the sound. “You enjoyed it that much?”

“I liked giving her pleasure,” Yusuf says. Nicolo pulls his hands away so he can cover his face, gone from a soft pink blush to a burning red, and makes a noise like a muffled scream against his palms. “Shit, are you okay?”

“You're truly the most incredible person I've ever met and I would _desperately_ love to see your cock right about now,” Nicolo mumbles, not looking up. “But the last thing I want to do is, is push you into something you're not ready for, or that you don't want, but _I_ want–”

“Anything,” Yusuf says breathlessly. “You can have anything you want.”

Nicolo laughs a little helplessly as he lowers his hands, all bright eyes and kiss-swollen lips set in his eternally soft face, and Yusuf feels almost dizzy with arousal. 

“Yes,” Nicolo says, grinning, “I'm starting to see that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I cut off before writing the actual smut but you know, sometimes it be that way. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I lowkey stalled out because writing Sexy Times™ is such a rare occurrence for me that I sort of forgot how, but I had fun with this and wanted to throw it up here anyways. Just picture baby-faced Nicolo riding Yusuf into the sunset while Yusuf just tries not to actually die and you're on the right track.
> 
> Also, some future teenager shenanigans:
> 
>   * Andromache and Quynh gasping awake after this horniness and going out for a drink to celebrate Nicolo's success because they've shipped it for decades
>   * Nile almost choking on her food when a sixteen-year-old casually calls a grown man the love of his life
>   * Going undercover at a high school (Booker and Andy play his parents. Great fun is had by all except Nicky)
>   * Andy giving Nicky piggyback rides when he's tired/injured/literally just not in the mood to walk
>   * I make no promises but there might be more simply because teenage Nicky is currently living rent free in my head
> 



End file.
